Chickens by Hayden Church

I

a child picks-at the wicker chicken standing at attention— plucking feathers stringed in ropes, draped in locs of wicker jowls ribboned around its neck, its beak clucking just to say exactly nothing it would not otherwise.

II

the other chicken is made of metal and is quite sharp and takes his meals at noontime and will not take it a second before or after. he enjoys his meal, burps decisively, and rides away on his motorcycle. he bites children.

III

wow: the lovely lady has flown the coop —how regent she is—

and I, for one, will not tell her that the roosters down there

are missing are gone a lady, untamed in her investments

because she is well aware.